AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He said he’d called, couldn’t get through and stopped by but we were closed. He knew Frank and called him.”
“We have an emergency number,” Cassie pointed out.
“I know.”
Cassie searched the room, but the towering form of Vince Monroe wasn’t in sight. “Where is he?”
Craig lifted a shoulder. “Maybe he already left. It is getting late.”
“Speaking of which, I’d better get going,” Frank said. “It’s a long drive home.”
Cassie spied Colton leaning against the bar, his tie loose, his eyes filled with amusement as he stared at her. He hooked a finger in her direction and held up a tall glass of champagne.
Her heart turned over as she moved through the groups of people, and she wanted nothing more than to tell him about Vince Monroe, but she couldn’t, not until she had more substantial proof. She wasn’t going to accuse anyone before her facts were straight. If Colton had taught her anything eight years ago, it was to listen to all sides before hurling accusations.
“Talking shop?” he asked once she was close enough to hear.
“Umm.” She accepted the glass from his hand and didn’t protest when he wrapped one arm around her.
“Well, enough of that,” he whispered in her ear, sending delicious tingling sensations down her spine. “We have more important things to do.”
“Such as?”
“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously, and Cassie silently agreed. She had lots to do. As Colton took her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor, she spied Jessica Monroe leaving with Ryan Ferguson, and she wondered if Jessica or Ryan or both were involved with Vince. Or—worse yet—her father.
Hours later, when the guests began to leave, Cassie found Paula and thanked her, while Colton located her coat and slipped it over her shoulders. The tips of his fingers grazed her bare arms, and she shivered a little.
Outside, the night was surprisingly warm. Only a few clouds dared creep across the moon. A mild breeze caught in Cassie’s hair and snatched at her skirt as she hurried to the Jeep.
She’d barely settled into the passenger seat when Colton started the rig. “It’s too early to take you home,” he announced.
“It’s nearly midnight.”
“Like I said—too early.” Flashing a devilish grin, he cranked the wheel and the Jeep roared toward the main highway.
“Don’t tell me, you’re kidnapping me again.”
“Nope.”
“Then where are we going?”
“Somewhere we should’ve gone a long time ago,” he replied. His voice had grown deep, his gaze thoughtful.
“And where’s that?”
“The lake.”
Her heart nearly stopped beating. Vivid memories haunted her—memories of making love with Colton, of cold water and a brilliant summer day, of the scent of pine mingled with the musky odor of sweat and of their sweet, precious day being ruined by Denver McLean astride a rangy bay gelding. “There’s no road to the lake.”
“Then we’ll ride.”
“Ride? You mean ride horses—like this?” she cried, glancing down at her dress, but couldn’t help giggling at his wonderful sense of the ridiculous. She considered telling him about Vince Monroe’s horse, but didn’t—there was time later. For a while she didn’t want anything to come between them. And until she had her facts straight, there wasn’t much she could do.
“Why not?” he asked.
“If you don’t know, I couldn’t begin to tell you.”
Colton laughed and yanked off his tie as the Jeep tore down the highway toward the McLean Ranch.
